Angels We Have Heard on High
by triquetral
Summary: Ash told Dean he'd been to Heaven before - here's one of the many trips. One-shot. Weird backwards tag to "Dark Side of Moon", set during "Mystery Spot". Dean, Andy, Ash


**Disclaimer:** Don't own, more's the pity.

**A/N:** This was just an idle thought I had in my noggin that I wanted to get down. Plus, I miss Andy. Weird backwards tag for _Dark Side of the Moon_, set during _Mystery Spot_.

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Ash tells him he's been to Heaven a lot, tells him that they've had this conversation about twelve times already.

All Dean remembers is waking up and listening to _Asia_, Sam freaking out about something, and then having some kind of weird allergic reaction to the water chestnuts in his Chinese food, food that Sam was determined they'd order in and have. Dean had been in the mood for tacos anyway, so it seems an especially pointless death.

According to Ash, it's just one pointless death in a string of pointless deaths, none of which Dean remembers. Ash tells him that Sam had come up to visit him once too, awhile back, and apparently Dean had already explained, during his first visit to heaven, that he'd sold his soul to bring Sam back. It's a small comfort to not have to go over all that, but Ash is still gazing at him with a mixed look of admiration and like he'd like to give Dean a huge smack upside the head.

Anyway, Ash says he can't stick around this time, has some kind of geek meet-up with a dude named Tesla. Dean remembers Sam writing a paper on him and being impressed that Dean knew about him – and yeah, Nikola Tesla worked with electromagnetic frequencies, so _of course_ Dean knew about him. Dean takes credit for the _A_ Sam got on that paper to this day.

Once Dean finds out that the places he'd been visiting in "his" heaven weren't real, that it was just memories of his dad and mom and Sam on instant replay, he's content to just stay in the bar. Ash doesn't want to leave him alone, tells him he can't find his parents, can't find anyone else Dean would know. Tells him that he's been continuing to track the psychic kids – at least the ones who have made it to Heaven, which aren't many.

Somehow Dean isn't surprised when Ash skips out and comes back with Andy. The last words Dean got to speak to the little stoner were, in fact, "Be good." Glad to see he followed through.

Andy's wearing the same silk bathrobe he was wearing when Dean first saw him, and he looks happy – which strikes Dean as strange, both because he's dead and because all Dean can think to do is apologize. If he'd gotten to Cold Oak a little sooner, maybe Sam and Andy wouldn't have died.

Sam dying brings up a really good question. "Hey, Ash" he asks, before his mullet-headed friend skips out in a Mucha Lucha mask, "How am I here, anyway? I thought my soul was doomed to the Southlands."

Ash sighs, a deep sigh from which Dean can gather means he's asked this question many times before. "It's a whole long explanation. Short answer is – read the fine print on any contract. If I don't see you before you leave, well, I'm sure I'll see you soon enough." That's all the wiry genius says before writing some kind of sigil on the wall and heading out in the wild blue yonder.

Andy has already grabbed a bottle from behind the bar and a couple of glasses, setting one down in front of Dean with the familiar dull thunk of glassware hitting mahogany.

Dean lets Andy fill up the glass – considering he's not paying for it and he doubts hangovers are part of Heaven. He mulls something over in his mind as the amber liquid sloshes its way up the tumbler. Decides to go ahead and ask it.

"How did you...?"

"- get into Heaven considering I'm a cog in some demonic Cuckoo clock of doom?" Andy finishes for him.

"Well, yeah." Dean agrees, slightly embarrassed by his own assumption that Andy - friggin' _Andy_ - would be hell bound.

Andy shrugged. "They're surprisingly cool with it."

"They?"

"I dunno, met a couple of guys. One was a nice enough dude, but no sense of humor, really - _intense_. He was asking about you, trying to figure you out."

Dean's not sure what to make of that, he's still coming to terms with the fact that there is a Heaven, nevermind that heaven has any idea about what's going on down on Earth and apparently isn't helping at all. And now they are asking about him personally. This whole thing is like being trapped in some Bizarro world.

"Get this – one of them actually said to me, "With great power comes great responsibility" and that I had "used my powers for good." I mean, seriously? I get to heaven and they're quoting Spiderman? For the place that creation stemmed from, I expected more than plagiarism. And if they're going to, then maybe at least some Socrates, probably way too much Kant."

Dean thinks about this for a moment, squishes the scotch around in his mouth, appreciates the woody flavor and the pleasant burn warming up his chest. "If all creation stems from here, doesn't that mean Stan Lee was plagiarizing heaven? Or at least, inspired by?"

Dean could be a lot more behind the idea of Heaven if he knew they were fans of the graphic novel.

Andy laughs, his face already flushed from the booze. "You'd be a good dude to share a bong with, Dean."

"That so?" Dean grins.

"Yeah, and my choice in recreational partners has never steered me wrong before. For instance, that Weber kid, my evil twin – never got high with him. And see how that turned out?"

"I see your point." Dean leans forward on the bar, enjoying the cool smoothness of the varnished wood.

"If Ash comes back, we'll have to see if he can sneak us into the Garden. Largest hydroponic greenhouse you've ever seen." Andy's face is lit up in joy like a kid on Christmas morning that got all the things they asked for.

Dean chuckles low into his glass, the sound echoing back to him. It's been awhile since he's had the chance to just sit and talk with someone. It's been awhile since he wanted to – because keeping on the move meant not thinking about going to Hell. Now that he's in Heaven, though, he feels some kind of - weight – off of his shoulders. And he wishes Sam was here, not dead – of course, but just so the kid could know what that's like, having the burden removed.

As if Andy is completely on his wavelength, he asks, "Sam's not with you, is that a good thing? Did he get out okay?"

It takes Dean a moment to realize that Andy is talking about Cold Oak. "Oh yeah, well – no, he died," Dean sips on the whiskey – which is not the cheap stuff, and squirms uncomfortably. Thinking about his brother's cold body is nowhere close to his idea of heaven. "He got better, though."

"Oh," Andy says, as if Sam had recovered from a bad bout of flu, "Glad to hear it."

"How about you? How're you liking the - pearly gates?" Whiskey spills down his hand as Dean gestures at the room.

"Dude, it's so sweet! I still have my van. I'm reliving the best highs of my life – literally. None of the bad swag, none of the paranoia, just pure sweet trips down memory lane. It's awesome, because I didn't even remember half this stuff, to be honest. It's like I'm seeing Amsterdam for the very first time."

Dean can't help but laugh. He's always liked Andy.

They play darts, pool, get rip-roaringly drunk together, crank the jukebox as loud as it will go. With each dart thrown, each expert slide of the cue, each guffaw of laughter, Dean feels a little more of this year's difficulties slide away.

And then he wakes up.

He turns over and sees Sam out cold in the bed next to him, checks the clock. 7:12. Still a good fifteen minutes before the alarm goes off. Dean gets up and hits the shower, gets himself dressed. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something important. He thinks he had a dream, but for the life of him can't remember what it was.

Dean looks down at his snoozing brother as he laces up his boots. For now – he and Sam are alive and together. That's reality.

The alarm clicks on. Such a good song, no matter what Sam says.

"Rise 'n' shine, Sammy!"

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Reviews Appreciated


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